


rush

by dlm



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: CEO AU, M/M, genuinely horrified at what i wrote
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-06-03 03:23:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6594643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dlm/pseuds/dlm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: your last personal assistant was seen running out of your building with a cat under their arm and one of their shoes missing and I don’t know why I still applied even after that</p><p>krisho (if u squint) <br/>fic for tong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tong14590](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tong14590/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY TONG, LOVE U BBG.  
> i wrote this in like less than an hour trying to rush 2 midnight (hence the title) (but also bc of the monsta x song) so....soz...this is genuinely so bad...i'm cringing

“The thing is,” Sehun says, “I still don’t know why you applied after the company’s last scandal.”

Junmyeon lets out a frustrated huff. “Just because the CEO’s last personal assistant was seen running out of the building with a cat under their arm—“

“And one of their shoes missing!” Sehun is staring accusatorily at Junmyeon now. “Honestly, you’re incorrigible.”

“Shush,” Junmyeon says, holding his head in his hands. And then, as if he’s received some sort of visionary message—“Oh god, I’ve really screwed up, haven’t I?”

Sehun pats him on the shoulder absently. “This is probably for the best. Your previous job wasn’t doing you any favours.”

Junmyeon gets a horrible flashback to three weeks ago, where he worked as a receptionist for a clinic. He shudders. “You’re right.” Turning to Sehun while sitting up straighter, he clenches his fist. “I can make a difference in this company.”

Sehun immediately lets go of his hand on Junmyeon and blanches afterwards. “Please don’t say that to the CEO.”

 

* * *

 

There are no cats in sight when he steps into Two Moons and co., so Junmyeon figures that he’s got his first day practically sorted. He’d even bought coffee for his future—well, current boss.

People appreciate other people who are well-prepared, he tells himself, as he knocks on the door with MR. BOSSMAN embossed in gold font.

(“Is…that really the CEO’s room?” He had asked a rather smiley guy, only to get laughter in response. He hopes it’s the right room.)

“Come in,” a gruff voice says, and Junmyeon enters with a beatific grin on his face, not quite knowing what to expect.

“Mr. Bossman?” Junmyeon asks tentatively.

The man turns dramatically from his office chair to face Junmyeon. “That is indeed my name.”

Junmyeon quickly realises three things: the man, who’s now Junmyeon’s boss, is attractive. Unfairly so.

The second thing is the fact that he’s still confused as to how such a person could drive away his last personal assistant—one of many, he reminds himself—away, as well as having a cat in tow.

The third thing is that Junmyeon realises that Mr. Bossman is a bit of a shit.

“Did you change it legally?” Junmyeon finds himself saying instead.

“Nah, legality is not my style,” Mr. Bossman says, which doesn’t answer anything, at all, except for the fact that it reinforces Junmyeon’s theory of Mr. Bossman Being A Bit Of A Shit.

“Right,” Junmyeon says, and then, brightly, “I brought you coffee!”

Mr. Bossman takes the coffee and nods seriously. “This is my style, however. Thank you very much.” He takes a sip almost immediately. “Chicken is not my style, but you may bring it on Fridays. I’m on a diet.”

“Right,” Junmyeon repeats. He feels as though this will be a common theme of their working relationship.

 

* * *

 

 

Junmyeon repeats all of this to Sehun, who’s busy laughing himself into a coma.

“Who the fuck,” Sehun gasps, “acts as a CEO and still gets to call themselves _Mr. Bossman._ ”

Junmyeon frowns. “He doesn’t ‘act’ as a CEO, he _is_ one. But you’re right. That doesn’t make much sense. Oh god, do I have to start looking for a new job again?”

“Stop worrying. Your life is wonderful,” Sehun concludes. “I’m glad people like you suffer so I don’t have to.”

“Shut up,” Junmyeon grumbles, but he’s also worried because tomorrow’s a Friday and he doesn’t know what to do with chicken and Mr. Bossman in general.

 

* * *

 

“I have brought you chicken,” Junmyeon says, stating the obvious, as he hands the plastic bucket over. “I wasn’t too sure with the specifics, but—“

Mr. Bossman’s looks at Junmyeon incredulously as he eyes the bucket with a ferocity that makes Junmyeon takes one step away from him. “You got me chicken.”

“Yes,” Junmyeon says, because he did.

“I’m not actually called Mr. Bossman.”

Junmyeon looks at him wide-eyed. “Wait, then who’s the boss around here?”

“I am,” Mr. Not-Bossman says.

“Um,” Junmyeon says.

“Call me Kris,” Kris says, which makes a lot more sense.

 

* * *

 

Sehun wrinkles his nose when Junmyeon tells him. “Kris sounds like a fake name.”

“How is a name a fake name?”

“Like a fake identity, duh.” Sehun makes a face. “You work in a detective agency, right? This could be it. Your key to success.”

“You are making absolutely no sense right now, and I’m not working in a detective agency,” Junmyeon says tiredly.

Sehun taps the side of his nose and smiles wryly. “You know who else is making absolutely no sense right now?”

“Don’t—“

“Mr. Bossman!" Sehun says, letting out a triumphant "whoop" at Junmyeon's look of despair.

 

* * *

 

After his first month working in Two Moons and co., Junmyeon finally works up the courage to ask Kris an Important Question.

He clears his throat after he’s handed Kris his updated planner and other various stacks of paperwork.

Kris raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Do people actually call you Mr. Bossman?”

Kris looks at Junmyeon, then at the painting behind him thoughtfully. “No.”

Jesus. “Do…you intend on having people call you Mr. Bossman?”

This time, Kris’ attention is on the potted plant to Junmyeon’s left. “No.”

“Then?!”

“Then,” Kris says, stroking the side of his face, “it is time for you to leave. No more questions. We are done for the day.”

 

* * *

 

 

It takes another month for Junmyeon to learn that Kris’ real name isn’t actually Kris. Surprise. Sehun would laugh at Junmyeon if he were there with him at the moment, except that Sehun always laughs at Junmyeon, whenever, and wherever, so whatever, he supposes.

In other news, Fridays have genuinely turned into a day of the week where chicken is magically Mr. Bossman—Kris--Yifan’s ‘style’, whatever that means.

Unfortunately for Junmyeon, Fridays are also days when Yifan forces Junmyeon into one-on-one matches of basketball, which means that Junmyeon has to go to the fried chicken place as well as pack spare clothes, which really means that he goes home into his shared flat with Sehun whilst smelling of fried chicken and sweat.

“You two are like an old married couple,” Sehun says, while he’s snuggled up on the couch with his head on his friend Jongin’s shoulder. (To be honest, the label ‘friend’ is used loosely by Junmyeon, despite whatever Sehun insists otherwise.)

“Pot, kettle, black,” Junmyeon replies; dumping his backpack on the floor.

“How was work?” Jongin says, unfazed by Junmyeon’s current attire; that being sportswear.

“Tiring,” Sehun answers for Junmyeon.

“That,” Junmyeon agrees.

“Does he really make you play basketball and feed him fried chicken at the same time?” Jongin says, and Junmyeon thinks that he’s kidding before he realises that Jongin’s actually being serious.

“God. No. Actually, yes to the first part. And maybe yes to the second part as well because he made me do that while he was in a conference call once.”

“He’s whipped,” Sehun tells Jongin seriously. He smiles at Junmyeon sweetly afterwards. 

Junmyeon shrugs. “I don’t mind that much, to be honest. He’s just a little…eccentric,” he finally decides on saying.

“Sure thing,” Sehun says, stressing his syllables and raising his eyebrows.

 

* * *

 

“I used to rap, once,” Yifan says, very seriously, while Junmyeon’s in the middle of explaining his itinerary for the company trip to England in a couple of weeks.

“You,” Junmyeon stops and sighs.

“I was really good. Park Chanyeol and I—we released a single together. I think you can buy it on iTunes. And I’m pretty sure you can stream it on Spotify.”

“Excellent,” Junmyeon says, because what else there is to say. “I still need some outstanding documents to book your flight—“

“The single was called two moons, in case you were wondering,” Yifan looks into Junmyeon’s eyes seriously. “I hope you were wondering.”

 

* * *

 

“I didn’t even know how to respond,” Junmyeon says helplessly as he recounts the traumatic experience to Sehun, who again, is busy pissing himself with laughter. “I need to change jobs.”

“There is no need to be upset,” Sehun says, once he’s calmed down. “You are great at your job.” He pauses. “Unfortunately, he isn’t.”


	2. shakushain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the LA Lakers are somehow involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please do not think that this is a serious piece of writing

It’s been a year since Junmyeon’s settled in as Yifan’s personal assistant.

Well.

The word ‘settled’ was a bit of a stretch, really, considering that his rather...enigmatic boss had practically made Junmyeon develop a sixth sense for sensing danger. It was all rather ridiculous.

“I know you’re the mother-hen type, but this is a bit much, even for you.”

It was a cool Sunday afternoon, and him and Sehun were idly sipping at their matching bubble tea drinks. Junmyeon watches Sehun stir his drink in frustration, half transfixed, half paying attention.

“What’s the matter?”

Sehun scowls. “Are you seriously planning your boss’ mother’s birthday party? This isn’t some sort of roundabout code, isn’t it?” At his own words, he pulls his straw out of his drink and jabs it at Junmyeon’s direction.

To his credit, Junmyeon did not flinch. “I...no. He just asked me to do a favour. It’s not a big deal. That’s what my job entails, anyway.”

“You…” Sehun trails off uselessly, before actually face-palming. “You can’t seriously think that he has the purest intentions in mind.”

Junmyeon shakes his head. “Yifan always has good intentions.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.”

 

* * *

Sehun’s unease is apparently contagious, because he walks into work the next day with a mild headache and a growing fear for the next of his boss’ schemes.

“Good morning,” Junmyeon says mildly, as he enters Yifan’s office with a little bow out of sheer habit. “The party’s all planned, it’s all a surprise and it’ll all be completely airtight, don’t worry. Your mother just thinks she’s going to have a vacation in some hot spring with your father.” He taps his chin in thought, before adding, “a belated honeymoon of sorts.”

“Excellent,” Yifan replies, in a way that makes Junmyeon think his effort was all for naught. “She could use some time away with my father, after all that he’s put her through.” He pounds his fist onto his palm. “A perfect setup. You’ve done me proud, my assistant.”

Junmyeon desperately tries not to scream in frustration.

After allowing the moment to pass, he clears his throat. “I was under the impression that you wanted to throw a ball for your mother.”

Yifan nods. “Ball is life.”

“...I am somehow at a loss to that expression of yours.”

“It means,” Yifan says loftily, as if he were speaking to a child, “that basketball is life.”

“Your middle-aged mother is not able to play basketball,” Junmyeon points out, actually sitting down on a plush-looking couch of Yifan’s that he’s always sort of admired from afar.

“No,” Yifan agrees; a sign that he’d seriously considered this at some point. “But she admires the Los Angeles Lakers, a team which I explicitly stated for you to hire for her birthday. You did do that, right, my personal assistant?”

 

* * *

 

 

“I told him to stop calling me that, but he never listens,” Junmyeon whines to Sehun later on that day.

“More importantly, how are you going to hire the Lakers?”

Junmyeon flings a throw pillow across the room in disgust. “That’s the thing! He told me that he was a fan of them, not that he had wanted them to personally attend his  _ mother’s  _ birthday party! Who even has basketball players attend their birthday party? Let alone the birthday parties of middle-aged women?”

“Um, retired athletes?” Sehun waggles his eyebrows, prompting Junmyeon to throw a pillow at his face. Sadly, Sehun has the grace of a swift goose, and he manages to escape Junmyeon’s wrath.

_ A true shame, _ Junmyeon mourns silently.

“Are you sure it’s not just Yifan that admires the Lakers?”

Junmyeon scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “He does have a lot of signed merchandise hanging around his office…”

“You fucking idiot.”

 

* * *

The thing is, Junmyeon isn’t exactly a fan of confrontation. 

Well. The thing is, Junmyeon isn’t a fan of confrontation when Sehun is.

Sehun had (strongly) suggested that he’d Set it Straight with Yifan, whatever that meant. It was a bit rich, really, coming from Sehun himself. When he’d tried to explain the pun to Sehun, he had merely gotten a scathing glare in response, which was typical of him, so there was that.

“Sir--Kris--Yifan,” Junmyeon stutters, when he walks into Yifan’s office.

Yifan’s aggressively leaning against his bookcase, if aggressively leaning against bookcases is a thing. Junmyeon supposes that in Yifan’s mind, it probably is. Today, his boss is wearing a particularly gaudy pair of basketball shoes with the words  _ KOBE _ emblazoned in neon yellow. Honestly, Junmyeon can’t believe that at some point he thought office life involved a little more...subtlety.

“Speak, or forever hold your peace,” Yifan says, coolly. He pushes his shades up the bridge of his nose. Why is he wearing shades indoors.

“Why are you wearing shades indoors,” Junmyeon starts, and then shakes his head. “Never mind. I wanted to ask you something, just to clear up all the confusion we’ve had surrounding your mother’s, er, ball.”

Yifan nods; a parody of a solemn gesture. “Continue.”

“Did you, or did you not, specifically request for me to plan a surprise ball for your mother?”

“I did.”

“Did you go through the papers I placed on your desk? For you to review?”

Said papers are being patted by Yifan, except they’re not even the papers that Junmyeon had handed over. From the looks of it, the papers that Yifan is patting are just crude doodles of his office staff and himself. 

Junmyeon shakes his head. “Those are not the papers.” He squints, and then quickly searches the room, until his eyes land on a rather familiar set of papers conveniently located in the dust bin.

“Wu Yifan,” Junmyeon growls, holding up the discarded papers in his hand.

Yifan takes a look at Junmyeon, and then at the door, and then at Junmyeon, and then he babbles, "I've just remembered I have a very important business meeting, with actual businessmen such as myself. Businesswomen are also there, because I'm not sexist, the term should really just be businesspeople, right, Junmyeon?" before he quickly darts out of the room.

 

* * *

“So, everything’s alright in Junmyeon-land? Yifan happy? You two bang yet?”

“No,” Junmyeon hisses, and Sehun has to duck away from the projectile throw pillow headed at his head. He cackles loudly, and Junmyeon groans.

“What is my life.”

**Author's Note:**

> this is like fic equivalent of shitposting istg
> 
> hmu on [twitter](http://twitter.com/pixeldad) xxx


End file.
